Notes: Written for the YGO Contest: Crushshipping, Tristan x Duke x Serenity! You'll have to put your shipper goggles on to read this. The title is from a song by Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds!
Well, me, I'm lying here, with nothing in my ears
Me, I'm lying here, with nothing in my ears
Me, I'm lying here, for what seems years
I'm just lying on my bed with nothing in my head
"Duke! Could you slow down just a little—"
Serenity braced her hands against her knees as she tried to catch her breath. Ahead of her, Duke stopped and turned when he heard Serenity suppress a cough, hand over her mouth. He felt her exhaustion all the way down to his bones as he made his way back to her, but if they didn't keep moving as Tristan insisted, time and the opportunity to find Yugi and the others would be lost. Serenity had been out of hospital less than a day and now she was asking of her body what it just didn't have. Dropping a hand to her shoulder, Duke brushed damp tendrils of hair back behind her ear.
"Hey!" he shouted over his shoulder at Tristan, who was nearing a cluster of trees at his almost-frantic pace. "Serenity needs a break."
Seeing Tristan's attention was on them now, Duke guided Serenity to a nearby rock by the elbow. It was large and smooth-faced enough for her to sit on; relief swept across her face as she all but collapsed onto it. She glanced up at him.
"Thanks," she said. Her cheeks were red with fatigue and probably embarrassment, too, Duke thought.
"Don't worry. I don't think anyone can keep up with that guy." He grinned, flopping down on the grass. Propping himself up on his forearms, Duke took in the sight of Tristan's sweaty face as he approached; he'd taken off his jacket and tied it around his waist. "You're a sight for sorry eyes."
Tristan ignored him, crouching down in front of Serenity. He placed a hand on her knee, and Duke scoffed quietly, letting himself fall back against the grass completely. He was too tired to compete with Tristan—not that there was much to contend with in the first place. Of Tristan and himself, the other had nowhere near as much game as he did.
"We'll stop somewhere soon. The others can't be too far away. We'll find them," Tristan said, breaking through Duke's thoughts. He sounded confident, unlike the Tristan who had cornered him on the deck of the blimp.
Serenity nodded, placing her hand on top of his. "I know we will." She pointed towards her feet, smiling sheepishly. "I think I'm getting blisters."
Duke sat up, lacing his arms around his knees, and watched them with interest. Tristan had already started untying Serenity's left shoe despite her protests, his fingers prying at the tongue before he carefully pulled it off. She grimaced as she reached down to push down her sock, revealing the beginnings of a sizable blister on the back of her ankle.
Tristan leaned back on his heels, rubbing his chin. "Guess there's nothing for it, then," he muttered. "Jump on my back; I'll carry you."
"Are you sure?" she asked, worrying at her lower lip. "I know I'm not that heavy, but it could be a long time before we—" Her voice tapered off. Tristan just shook his head. He stood with his back turned to her.
"Like I said, we'll find them," he repeated. Duke tried not to gag. "Let's get going."
Serenity smiled gratefully and started to stand up on the rock, but just as she went to wrap her arms around Tristan's shoulders, Duke decided to intervene.
"Wait!" Duke jumped to his feet as two confused pairs of eyes turned to him. "I'll carry her. You're too busy being a wonderboy of nature to get distracted—"
"You're not strong enough," Tristan cut him off.
"Why don't we find out?" Duke retorted.
"I don't want to have to drag you around too when your back breaks."
"We have a deal, then: if I can't do it, you can just leave me here."
Tristan grabbed Serenity's arm as she started to draw away from him. His voice rose over Duke's as he said, "Much as I'd love to leave you as a snack for the owls, Yugi wouldn't forgive me if something happened to you." Tristan's eyes were hard, and Duke had to swallow down another protest. He glanced at Serenity, who looked as if she just wanted to walk away from them both right now, and relented.
"Fine," he agreed. "But if you try anything funny—"
"Duke," Serenity said sharply. Then she grinned at him as Tristan hoisted her legs up under his arms. "You sound like my brother."
"What kind of an insult is that?"
Until late in the evening, they followed the river, trudging alongside its muddy banks, and startling when unknown creatures scuttled back into the water. Duke almost fell in at one point when he tried to wash some of the grime from his face and a pair of beady eyes had been staring back at him, just above the surface of the murky water. Only Tristan's handful of the back of his shirt had stopped him being someone's lunch—or worse, in Duke's eyes, Tristan thought with amusement, filthy.
Trying to navigate the way through a virtual realm was something he would have thought Duke would be good at, but he apparently had no sense of direction, for when Tristan had sent him off to find something to get a fire going, it had taken him two hours to find his way back. Tristan glanced over at Duke, who lay on the other side of the fire, an arm pillowed under his head; the flickering light from the flames created shadows on his face, emphasizing the strange mark on his left cheek. Tristan had gotten the urge to touch it more than once, to feel its texture and determine whether it was a scar or merely makeup.
A few feet away from Duke, Serenity was curled up underneath his jacket—which, he realized with a frown, probably reeked of sweat and whatever was left of his cologne—with her head on Duke's red vest, folded up to better act as a better cushion.
As much as Tristan wanted to sleep, and despite the fact he caught his eyelids drooping more than once, he felt responsible for the safety of the other two, and so he remained awake, relying on the brightness of the flames to keep him alert.
The next day, as Duke yawned and scrubbed the sleep from his eyes, Tristan poked at the embers in the fire pit, and Serenity greeted them both brightly. Her foot was already feeling better and she didn't want to burden Tristan more than she already had; his face was tired, his eyes bloodshot. Duke didn't look much better, but he vocalized it, complaining that the lack of a bed had prevented him from sleeping well.
"At least you slept," Tristan said, but his tone was a warning for Duke not to push his luck.
For a few more hours, they walked; only when the afternoon sun was starting to sink into the horizon did Tristan yield. With no sight or sound of Yugi, Joey or Téa, it was becoming clear that whoever—or whatever—had brought them here had no intention of giving them an easy means of escape.
Duke took the initiative, changing direction even when Tristan disagreed with him, but it was obvious that his lack of sleep was affecting his judgment. Also his patience, Serenity noted; that twitch in Tristan's right eye hadn't been there that morning.
To their collective surprise, Duke's path led them to a mansion cut into a hillside above the river. Serenity couldn't hide her joy as she ran up the steps to the front doors and, without stopping to think about manners, pushed the polished oak doors open. Duke and Tristan's heavy footfalls behind her forgotten, she started down one of the halls, calling out. She didn't expect to see anyone, and if she did, she might just hug them anyway.
"God," Duke panted, bracing himself against the doorway of a room they'd followed her into. "You can really move when you want to, huh?"
"Look at this place," she exclaimed. "It's perfect!"
"It's still virtual," Duke grumbled, but he couldn't help smiling at her.
"It feels real." Tristan's voice, muffled, made them turn their heads.
Tristan had already thrown himself onto the four-poster bed in the middle of the room. He gave a content groan, closing his eyes as Serenity laughed, peering into the adjoining bathroom.
"I think we should stay here for the night," she said, and for once both boys nodded in agreement.
Duke roused Tristan from his slumber by the shoulder, and he blinked groggily, his sleep-deprived mind trying to make sense of Serenity's hysterical words and the expression of anxiety of Duke's face. He forced himself to close his eyes, then opened them again, squinting at the stark white of the walls behind Duke's head. Serenity had bandages clutched in her hand, and her mouth was moving but he couldn't hear her. He stared at them both, confused, until Duke hit him across the face with an open hand. Then he came back to himself, automatically pinning Duke with a glare.
"The hell was that for?" he demanded.
Duke tried to roll his eyes, but he still looked too worried for Tristan's taste. "Look around. This whole place has changed."
"Doesn't it look familiar?" Serenity asked, desperation in her eyes.
Tristan took a few minutes to look around the room—he did, in fact, recognize it as Serenity's room at the hospital, the one she'd been in right after her surgery, the same one he'd visited every day—
He swallowed thickly when he saw the laptop at the foot of the bed, along with the get well card he'd given her. He looked from Serenity's face to Duke's, searching for an answer.
"But this is where you—" Tristan gestured wildly. "Who did this? How?"
"We've been trying to figure that out while you were sleeping like a baby," Duke said tersely. "I came out of the shower and the room had just… changed. Serenity already told me about the hospital. So the question is…"
"It's someone who knows me," Serenity finished for him, her fingers shaking in their grip on his hand; Tristan wanted to gather her into his arms and soothe her but right now he had to be level-headed. Easier said than done when Duke, the guy who despaired at one hair on his head being out of line, was in the same room.
"But who?" Tristan croaked, his voice suddenly dry. "Only me, Joey, your mom, the nurses and your doctor had access to that room."
"You're taking all the fun out of guessing, Tristan."
A voice, young, reverberated through the room. Suddenly the white was blinding; Duke and Serenity were looking around for the source. Tristan instinctively knew it was the person who had put them here to begin with.
He asked the most obvious question first: "Who are you?"
"I couldn't tell you now. This game is just starting to be watchable."
"You punk," Tristan seethed, unable to stop himself before the words were tumbling out. "If you messed with any of our friends, I swear to god—"
A 'tsk' sound. "Threats just won't do. You're in my world now. I hold this place in the palm of my hand. It changes at my will."
Serenity was shaking, leaning against Tristan's side as Duke reached for her hand, squeezing it reassuringly, though he himself was gritting his teeth and restraining himself. Tristan placed a hand against the back of her head as she pressed her face into his shirt, hands over her ears.
"How do you know about her?" Duke's tone was clipped, on the verge of irrationality.
"I know about all of you," the voice laughed, childish-sounding. "Your memories are laid out here in front of me. I know about you, Duke Devlin. You, too, Tristan Taylor."
Quickly, Tristan shot a glance at Duke, who returned it with a surprised look on his face.
"So you have our names," Duke scoffed, appearing to be over his moment of shock. "Any moron could know them."
The voice didn't seem fazed by the jab. "I'll show you what I mean."
There was sudden darkness. A light, initially a pinprick, grew in size until it was as big as Tristan's clenched fist. Duke, next to him, had gone rigid; then Tristan realized that the light was a small lamp with an even smaller hand wrapped around it. The smell of burning flesh invaded his senses.
"…Duke?"
Quiet breathing was at his ear. The light slowly expanded until it revealed a younger-looking Duke, maybe ten or eleven, his black hair bound in a braid; his eyes were round and green, lacking the noticeable slant that Tristan had grown used to. The Duke next to him was gripping his wrist tightly as the other Duke started to sob, each increasing in volume until it was a choked scream, and the light shattered, sending glass flying. Knees hit the floor in the dark, the crying became faint, and Tristan closed his eyes.
"Have you learned something today?"
Tristan could hear the smirk in the voice, and he hastily shook Duke by the shoulder; he'd lost consciousness, and he found that Serenity had, too. Swallowing, he grasped Duke's hand in his own, brushing his fingers over the slender knuckles, before turning Duke's palm up so he could see it. He felt a wave of nausea at the faded burn marks that covered most of his skin, wondering how he'd never noticed it before.
He woke some time later, staring at the ceiling fan with bleary eyes. Beside him, Duke's head was resting on his stomach, and Serenity was still cradled in his arm. Gently, he woke them up.
"Are you okay?"
"Fine," Serenity said, stifling a yawn. "Duke?"
"Fine apart from the disaster that is my hair right now."
Tristan paused, then asked, "What do you remember…?"
Duke blinked at him owlishly. "You fall and hit your head?"
Tristan let out a relieved laugh; he put Duke in a headlock, grinning at Duke's objections. He only let him go when he was certain Duke looked as bad as he did right now, and he ruffled Serenity's hair.
"Let's go for real this time," he said. "I really, really want to get out of here."